


I know with me you get a little bit addicted

by amberlo133



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Dancing, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Shenanigans (Star Wars), M/M, PWP for Padme What Padme, Sorry Not Sorry, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:40:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29695170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amberlo133/pseuds/amberlo133
Summary: Obi Wan and Anakin are sent undercover in one of Coruscant’s most hedonistic dance clubs.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 15
Kudos: 107





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a ridiculous fic that no one asked for. But I miss going clubbing.
> 
> I have paid zero attention to the canon timeline and I'm okay with that.
> 
> There will be some discussion about sexual consent in regard to force shenanigans in the third chapter.

“It’s not a mission that will stretch your skills,” said Mace looking at Obi Wan. “But we needed a team here in Coruscant and, given the nature of the establishment, one without a padawan.” Well, that hardly boded well, he thought.

It was only Master Windu briefing them today and the mission was certainly minor by comparison with many he and Anakin had worked before. They were tasked with finding a force sensitive influencing people to buy drugs in one of Coruscant’s most hedonistic nightclubs.

“We already sent a Knight working alone but they made no progress and the problems started up again as soon as they left. You will likely need to spend some time undercover. But don’t take too long, your skills are needed elsewhere.” He waved his hand dismissing them and they bowed and left. 

The trip down to the lower levels took them almost no time at all. Their destination was a nightclub occupying several floors that could entertain thousands at once. Obi Wan skimmed through the information that law enforcement had provided to the Temple and frowned.

“I’m not surprised they haven’t caught someone yet. This place is impressive.” Anakin snorted.

“It was Marius, he probably wore his robes and used his lightsaber to look in dark corners.”

Obi Wan could see curiosity and interest in Anakin’s eyes as they walked through the entrance and felt his presence unfurling in the force; tentatively exploring. His hair was growing out of the short padawan style and it still felt odd to see him without the braid, despite Obi Wan’s pride in his knighting.

“You’ve never been somewhere like this before? He asked, mostly to distract himself from lingering on the mixed emotions the slight curl Anakin’s hair seemed to be eliciting.

“No. Not for long, anyway. I might have been chased in and out of places like this once or twice.”

Obi Wan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Maybe entering the Temple age nine wouldn’t have made much difference for most children but Anakin had been running around Mos Eisely pretty much unchecked and competing in pod races that would have killed most humans. Nine was old in Tattooine years. He thought nothing of taking trips and getting into trouble street racing in Coruscant’s lower levels. Obi Wan had learned to curb the worst of his enthusiasm and embrace the skills and contacts it brought.

Regardless, this club was different to the bars and cantinas they had often visited on missions further out from the Core, most obviously in its scale. But it was also more upmarket. This was somewhere the Core’s mid to wealthy citizens came to let loose. There would be no slave sex work or spice to be found here. But if you had the money, there would be legal highs and designer drugs too new too be legislated against aplenty. And as for sex, there were whole rooms dedicated to liaisons between consenting adults. He wondered how much of that Anakin realised. The younger man had wandered over to examine a mural depicting the kind of pleasures visitors could expect from the club, so he was probably developing an idea. For all that his rebellious streak got him into trouble, he always seemed to be seeking an adrenaline rush, never any of the more prosaic pleasures.

Anakin turned and grinned at him.

“I can feel you worrying, they sent us because I’m not a padawan anymore remember, Master?”

“You don’t find that statement contradictory?” Obi Wan grouched.

“Only you would pedantic enough to complain about a mark of respect.” His tone was teasing and Obi Wan could feel a smile threatening to break through his facade, when they both sensed another life form approaching and turned.

“Well this won’t work,” said a tall, angular woman looking at them critically.

“I’m sorry?” Obi Wan said as they both gave her a short bow.

“You’re the ones they sent to find out who’s been peddling that new drug? You stick out like a Wampa in a desert. Just like the one before, even if you were sensible enough not to wear your robes.”

“I assure you we can be discrete.” She raised her eyebrows and beckoned to them. She led them through a side entrance and suddenly noise rushed over them like a wave; the kind that flips you over and drags you under. They emerged onto a balcony two floors over a large dance floor. It was a comparatively quiet time of day for the club but the floors were still crowded. People of all kinds were enjoying themselves in a myriad of ways. Drinking at the bars dotted around, draped over low couches and against railings. As they moved along the balcony the music changed, cleverly hidden speakers projected music into separate zones. Some relaxed and others high energy and everywhere people were dancing. Most were patrons dancing solely or in small groups but intermittently there were professionals on podiums and stages. Obi Wan could feel Anakin’s presence in the force reacting to it all, like a star sending off solar flares. 

What was quite clear was that they did not fit in. Their guide leaned against a railing and nodded.

“Now you see.”

“It will be a problem Master,” Anakin added. “If we can’t pass as customers there aren’t many vantage points where we can hide. And I don’t see any cameras. If we just hang around watching, we will be noticed.” Obi Wan made a noise of agreement he knew would be lost to the music. He looked at their guide.

“Can...I’m sorry I didn’t get your name.”

“Fern.”

“Fern, I’m glad to meet you. Could we join the staff.”

“We use droids for serving,” she said dismissively. “Unless you can dance.” She waved a hand at the dancer nearby who was hanging from a pole by their ankles. “We do hire force users when we can find them. Helps get the crowd excited on busy nights. But I suppose Jedi would disapprove of that.”

“Misuse of the force,” said Anakin, like someone who had learned it by rote. Obi Wan had certainly been tempted to make him write lines from time to time. 

_ I will not use the force to hide the droid I have disassembled rather than completing my assigned reading. _

“But surely if it is done as part of a mission it would be okay? It would be such small amounts compared to how much we might use otherwise.” That was exactly the kind of reasoning that got Anakin into trouble.

“We’ll see. It’s moot point since neither of use can pole dance.”

“What about katas? They’re a lot like dancing,” said Anakin and Fern looked interested.

“We have had some martial dancers before. Especially from species and cultures that value that highly. It can be a big crowd pleaser.” Obi Wan looked from one to the other, taking in their serious expressions. He had that feeling he got sometimes when Anakin had been planning and he was imagining himself explaining to the Council exactly why this had become the most sensible course of action. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Do you have any other ideas, Master?”

“I can’t believe...”

“You’re agreeing to this. Excellent.” Anakin turned to Fern with a smile. She gave him the barest hint of smile back and led them to a service door and through the hallways to a small dance studio. Around the edges were lockers surrounded by clusters of shoes and bags. They probably belonged to all the staff on duty.

“We’ll try you both but he will likely be the better pick,” Fern said gesturing to Anakin. “He looks more the part.”

“She means I’m younger.” Anakin hissed to him in a stage whisper and he raised his eyebrows and smiled placidly back, while sending a jolt down their bond like a poke in the ribs. Anakin merely grinned.

Fern looked at them appraisingly. “So you’ll be doing a martial dance, yes? You realise you can’t just duel, it must be a dance.”

“We can work something out,” said Obi Wan with a confidence he didn’t really feel. He was pretty good at the dances used at formal functions. He had to be for some missions but that was unlikely to help here. And despite his grace in combat Anakin had always been distinctly awkward and bemused by the formal dances he had been taught.

Fern looked unconvinced. 

“Okay show me.”

“Armed or unarmed?”

“Armed first. But not with those,” she said as they reached instinctively for their sabres. Instead she located two duelling sticks and threw them over. Anakin caught them with ease and they both shed their outer layers and began to stretch. Fern circled them critically.

“You certainly have the right kind of bodies.”

Obi Wan smile politely at Fern and caught Anakin smirking at him. They fell into the usual Soresu and Shien salutes, relaxing and smiling at each other. These days they usually sparred with their sabres on near to full power, this would be an interesting and less dangerous change. Dimly, he noticed Fern switching on music and dismissed it as unimportant. 

They started slow and gradually sped up to about half of what they would be capable of. It wasn’t like they were trying to win here. Even so, Obi Wan could feel the times when Anakin passed up an opportunity for an attack. It was like a flash of heat that was redirected before it had a chance to burn. He wondered how their sparring would change when they finally severed their training bond. Fern’s voice broke in derailing his train of thought as she waved a hand at Anakin.

“He’ll be our primary, as expected.” Anakin stepped back from the match.

“Why?”

“You’re fitting your strikes to the music. Did you notice?” Anakin looked at his blade in surprise.

“No.”

“It comes naturally to you. That’s good.” She paused for a moment, clearly considering. “Are those your only styles?”

“No,” Obi Wan responded, he could see Anakin looked slightly offended out of the corner of his eye.

“Good. Switch, please.” They took her at her word and made a direct switch, it was very odd to see Anakin fall into the Soresu salute across from him. A few minutes later they broke off and turned to Fern expectantly. The woman had a natural authority that made seeking her approval seem natural. Looking for criticism of his forms from a non Jedi dancer certainly wasn’t something Obi Wan had expected to do that day. 

“It’s better. We might want to use a mixture of solo and paired material. If he is be our primary he should lose the fight, the defensive style will suit the narrative better.” She nodded at Obi Wan. “You should increase the aggression.” Anakin chuckled behind him and reengaged when he turned to look.

“Come on, Master. Let go of your inner peace.” 

“You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Maybe just a little.”

Obi Wan focused on Anakin and tried to increase his aggression without instantly speeding up and slipping into the kind of moves only powerful force sensitives would be capable of.

Anakin used Soresu to slip away from him again and again. Subtle parries allowing him to pivot around with little effort. He was enjoying using his Master’s tactics against him for once. Obi Wan pushed a little more weight behind his blows and started to draw on Ataru and a few pieces of Vaapad he had heard about. It was a mental struggle to use those forms without drawing heavily on the force but he had soon driven his former padawan further on the defensive and was backing him across the room.

“Yes. This could be very sexy.” Fern said as she cut off the music, Anakin carefully detached himself from the flow of the duel and blinked at her still panting. “You should think of something suitably dramatic to end on. I suggest that this is the main event. The story can be that he,” she gestured at Obi Wan, “is here to partner you in this. Then he can hang around as much as he wants while waiting for the set. Acceptable?

They exchanged a glance and nodded. Obi Wan started to thank her but she cut across him looking at Anakin.

“You, I train to give a convincing dance, while he watches the crowd.” He looked to Anakin to get his approval, this would be far harder for him than Obi Wan. The younger man just smiled and shrugged. He looked somewhat bemused but not uncomfortable. It wasn’t exactly what Obi Wan had had in mind for the mission but it would be a nice way to introduce Anakin into how much detail knights often left out of their reports to the Council, particularly if it meant avoiding some epic ribbing from the rest of the Temple. 

They arranged to meet later and Obi Wan beat a hasty retreat, leaving Anakin to his fate.

“Okay. Now that he’s gone we can get to work,” Fern said and Anakin bristled slightly.

“What’s wrong with Obi Wan?” He was a little curious despite his defensive instinct, people usually took to his master immediately, like he had some sort of charm pheromone. 

“Too much the Jedi stereo type,” Fern shrugged. “Not nearly as serious as some but still.” She refocused and gave him a critical look. It was shockingly similar to being reviewed by Master Windu or Yoda and he suppressed a smile at the thought.

“The katas will be too disjointed alone. All slow and then fast, no chance to lean into the movement.” She pressed a hand to her mouth considering. “Show me your stretches again.” Obediently Anakin moved into lunge and ran through a short sequence.

“Yes, this is good, we can combine this with the katas.” 

To illustrate she dropped into a stretch moving slowly in and out, not pushing her body to the limit of the motion the way Anakin had, then mimicked a couple of movements from the kata at the same speed. But she added hand and head movements to make it look sensuous and yearning. Anakin’s eyebrows rose to see the movements he was so familiar repurposed with such ease. Fern stopped abruptly and stood straight.

“Repeat.”

Anakin did trying his best to mimic the way she had flowed. It felt a little awkward but at the same time good. Like it stretched the muscles in a different way than he had before. 

“Yes. Now try this.” She dropped into a plank from standing and pressed forward so that her toes tucked under and dragged across the floor. Her muscles stood out clearly, straining against the skin but she kept the movement slow and graceful. Then she threw her hand up to the ceiling in a side plank, body taut and bentupwards like a bow.

Anakin thought back carefully, making a note of the moves and dropped into a plank. “Wait. Take your shirt off.” Anakin choked slightly in surprise and amusement. 

“Oh course, Mistress Fern.” She caught his smirk and looked unimpressed.

“They pay to see you, Knight and you are beautiful. There’s no room for modesty here.” Well that made sense but Anakin was still slightly bemused and flustered to have it stated so plainly. Personal beauty was not something considered important by the Jedi. Fern raised her eyebrows at him and he scrambled to stand again and tug off his shirt before taking another breath and dropping back to a plank.

“You are moving with your mind,” grumbled Fern when he finished. “Stop thinking and let your body lead this time.” He dutifully went through the moves again, feeling his muscles stretching and contracting to slide between the movements. As always the sequence became easier to do once he didn’t have to think about what was next and could let his mind drift. Letting his mind relax was different here than at the Temple. There the Force was thicker in the air but so still. Like a blanket of snow twenty foot deep. He often felt like the only flaw in the fabric, around him eddies curled and crackled like a magnetic storm and he could never seem to calm it. Surrounded by the club, the Force was just as unbalanced as him. He could feel the people and the currents they caused and disrupted in the rooms beyond. Here and there were concentrations where people moved in unison led by the music. It reminded him of the early lessons sensing the force in living beings but so much more chaotic.

“Better. Press into the motion more. Wait.” She turned on some music. “There. Listen and fit your motion to the music.”

Anakin closed his eyes and remained still for a moment deepening his breath in the way he usually did before training, he caught the line of the melody and dropped as the music reached a crescendo, dragging himself forward using his shoulder and abs to keep his legs in a taut line. He transferred his weight to his right hand and threw his left up, curving it over as far as he could without over balancing.

“Yes better.” She said as she circled him, looking on critically. Pleased, he smiled as he dropped back into a plank, feeling the elation he always did as his muscles warmed up. Impulsively he pushed his legs through between his hands and pressed up again, toes pointed and hips reaching towards the ceiling, before flipping backwards to standing over his planted right hand.

“Very good. I doubt it will take us long to come up with something. Not if you can improvise like that. Now, try this.”

She ran through the same now familiar moves but this time Anakin felt her in the force as well. She pushed out her emotions and he felt her serenity in the movements. Her presence in her body, the way she felt the stretch and strain. It was intoxicating.

“Wow. No wonder people pay so much on entry here.”

“Yes. Now you try.”

Anakin mimicked her motions again, he was used to the moves now and could do it easily enough. Tentatively, he channeled how she had paid complete attention to her body and the low pulse of the music and pushed it outside his own skin. It was easy enough. His force presence never seemed to stay contained by his body anyway but now he had something to concentrate on. In meditation he had always excelled at guided exercises. He could just never manage the zeniths of present moment awareness or transcendence without anything to focus on.

“Yes, good. Keep it gentle. It is only the invitation to feel how you feel. Not a demand.” That was okay. It wasn’t something he should be test without another Jedi around anyway.

They hammered out a vague routine over the next hour and by the end Fern seemed pleased.

“Come to meet the rest of the dancers tonight. As your cover identity. We stretch and warm up together three hours after sundown. Be slightly late, it will avoid awkward questions. Then, after, we will work together again.”

“What should I wear?” He smiled at her. “I assume my robes are out.”

Fern led him to a dressing room and rummaged in a cabinet. She selected a pair of thin, loose trousers and held them up. “Yes,” she pulled out another pair and checking the sizes threw them both to him.

“Give the other to your master.” Then she gestured over to a long line of masks ranging from the ridiculously complex to simple dominos. “Choose one that fits.”

After several tries, Anakin chose a stylised Mandalorian helmet that would cover his face bit still allow him freedom of movement and vision.


	2. Chapter 2

When Obi Wan finally located Anakin in the training rooms, his former padawan had commandeered a private suite. Probably a good idea, the Council might approve their tactics but it would certainly create far too much opportunity for good natured teasing from the other Knights and padawans. He would prefer to avoid any Jedi being tempted to visit the club to catch their show.

At first glance, ObiWan thought Anakin was just moving through a regular warm up, stretching out his muscles but it became immediately clear this was more than that. Many of the movements were ones he had seen Anakin make a million times but they had been transformed into something evocative and undeniably sensual. The perfect poise gifted by the force and years of training had been turned to quite a different purpose. And it was damned effective. Obi Wan felt a rising warmth at the sight but dismissed it easily as he always did when he reacted that way to another being. Casual liaisons were permitted, of course, but a bit of a minefield nonetheless and mostly it was easier to simply refrain.

And yet there was something lovely about seeing Anakin using his body this way. Usually they acted as the highly trained avatars of the Council, using their bodies to carry out its will. Lately that seemed to involve more and more destruction. Some of the Jedi would probably call this repurposing of their training perverse but it was also pleasant change.

“Quite the talent you have there.”

“Obi Wan! Thanks,” he jumped up and ducked his head shyly. “I’m enjoying it more than I thought I would.”

“Well better you than me.”

“No, you’d be great.” Obi Wan snorted, Anakin was still too much inclined to perceive him as perfect. Now that they were equals the other shoe would drop soon enough. “Fern said we should continue working on a routine and be sure we make convincing non Jedis. Apparently we kept getting carried away earlier. I grabbed some durasteel practice staves from the younglings.” Anakin threw one of the light lengths of metal to ObiWan who caught it easily. He shed his outer robes and dropped into the Soresu salute before backing out when he saw Anakin doing the same.

“This feels bizarre.” He tossed the sword in his palm. “You never did like Soresu.” Anakin’s mouth pursed as he dropped his arm down from its place over his head.

“Too neat. Only you could make it look exciting. We shouldn’t use the salutes either, I suppose. It does advertise the Jedi thing a bit.”

“How about a surprise attack. Go back to what you were doing before.” Anakin didn’t hesitate, dropping into a slow motion kata. Watching him, Obi Wan wondered why they didn’t spend more time moving the through the forms at half pace. They were beautiful like this and he could see Anakin thinking about the purpose behind the moves, judging exactly when to form and release a fist. Smoothly he deviated from the pattern dance, keeping the wide low stance but dropping his hands behind him into a bridge and then lifting his legs up into a handstand. He held his upper body perfectly still and carefully extended his legs before dropping them down to come to standing. With a burst of energy he threw his body into a series of kicks before slowing right down again. It was only when he threw an amused glance at Obi Wan that he realised he wasn’t meant to be just watching. Immediately he raised his weapon and flipped into Anakin’s outer circle bring his sword towards his ribs. Anakin rolled away, dodging once, twice until he could pick up his own blade. 

They warmed up for a couple of rounds. Letting themselves remember the unfamiliar styles. They were panting and reaching for water when Obi Wan spoke again.

“Still not sure this is something that could pass for a dance that you would see onstage at a nightclub.”

“Fern had a few suggestions. We slow it down even more than we were. Then allow it to speed and slow. Just like I’ve been doing with the other dance. Also, that we get inside each other’s guard more. Allow the ‘blades’ to touch skin. That should stop people seeing it and instantly thinking Jedi.”

“I suppose the instant dismemberment is a pretty key feature of lightsabers.” Anakin sent him an amused look. Despite the unusual circumstances it was familiar to see him like this. Sparring had always been one of their happiest times together, something they both excelled at. In the ring and on the matts his apprentice was always at his most relaxed. The storm clouds that often seemed to follow him were usually absent, erased by his love of the art and easy confidence with a saber in his hand. It had been the same when they finally started to be sent on missions together. All of Anakin’s energy and talent had needed a focus, otherwise he could be unbearable.

“Quarter speed then?” He moved back towards Obi Wan twirling his practice sword around in a loose grip.

This was quite different. They had often run through moves this slowly when Anakin had been learning the forms but it had been a while and they’d never done it for this long at a stretch. After a few minutes Anakin huffed and drew back.

“Every time I try and touch you, you block it.” Obi Wan winced.

“Apologies, habit.”

“Well, do better.” Anakin said smirking, clearly enjoying the role reversal. “And remember you’re meant to be fighting more offensively than usual. Definitely more so than me.” He looked down breaking eye contact with ObiWan. “We could open the bond wider. It would help us telegraph moves to each other.”

“Why didn’t I think of that?” In fact, he was glad of the excuse. Both of them were still ignoring their reluctance to discuss severing the bond. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling for his old padawan’s presence in the force and sending energy towards him. Light boiled back and the bond strengthened and opened wider. He heard Anakin make a pleased noise but didn’t acknowledge it. 

“Let’s try that again.”

This time he could feel Anakin’s intentions as they moved together. They could communicate plans to slow down and sped up easily and they shifted closer to looking like the dancers they would be impersonating. He allowed a raking swipe across his ribs but when he felt a flutter of amusement and a stray thought about his beard, he deflected the blow and retaliated by flicking across Anakin’s jaw and cheekbone instead. 

“Amusing, but hardly something a non Jedi could do without injuring me.” Obi Wan said dryly.

“We’ll be wearing helmets, it’s fine.” Typical, he thought, he has an answer for everything. Anakin flipped over his head and caught him another soft swipe down his back. “Now that would be well out.”

Hiding his grin, Obi Wan dropped and swept a leg about around behind him. Anakin avoided it neatly but left himself open for a follow up arm lock and a sword tip under his jaw. With the bond open wide it was easier to fight playfully, knowing the other one was still calm and enjoying the challenge.

They continued until they were confident they wouldn’t embarrass themselves when they finally went onstage.

“We just need...something dramatic...to end on,” Anakin panted. “We agree it should finish at full speed. What’s flashy but still possible without using the force?”

“Plenty of dancers can actually flip. Maybe a throw and then a flip into a strike?”

“Let’s try it.” He pointed his practice sword at Obi Wan, grip loose. “You should disarm me first.”

They came together again and built up speed until they were pushing the limits of what a normal human could do. Anakin dodged the first attempt but Obi Wan didn’t realise he was actively resisting until he heard a breathless laugh as Anakin nearly reversed his second attempt and almost disarmed him in return.

“Less aggressive, padawan.” Obi Wan breathed. 

“Not your padawan anymore.” Their blades locked and strained against each other and their eyes met before Anakin’s flickered down. Obi Wan took advantage of Anakin’s momentary distraction and sent his blade spinning away. Before Anakin had a chance to retaliate he turned into his personal space, shoving his back against the other man’s chest, his heels resting on Anakin’s toes and tossed the taller man across his hip. He kept hold of the arm he had used for leverage, still bent to full extension across his thigh and rested the tip of his sword against Anakin’s throat. Anakin shifted his head around to look up at him, jaw rasping against the dull blade.

“No flip?”

Their eyes held for a moment and Obi Wan was very aware of their panting breath and the rolling tension in their bond. The ending felt wrong somehow,undeserved and unsatisfying. It had been a while since Obi Wan had been able to win a bout with Anakin that easily and Anakin surrendering was unthinkable. He saw Anakin frown slightly at his pause and broke away, moving towards water and towel. 

“I think that works well enough.”

“Yeah,” Anakin’s sat up and ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. “Before you go, Fern said to practice projecting my feelings into the force. I’m worried I might come on a bit strong to pass as less than a Jedi.” 

That seemed very likely, Anakin always underestimated how different he felt from anyone else. He always assumed the Council disapproved of him because of whatever scrape he had got into this time. As if just being in the same room with him wasn’t enough to remind everyone of the bubbling potential he held inside.

“Of course, I’ll tell you if it’s too much.” Anakin smiled at him, expressions still painted relaxed and easy on his face after the workout. He flicked on some music and gracefully made his way over to the centre of the room. 

Hearing the music from the club here in the Jedi temple felt distinctly odd to Obi Wan but Anakin seemed to thrive on it, just as he had there. He breathed deeply falling into a relaxed state with the kind of ease he never exhibited during regular meditation. Through their bond he felt Anakin settle perfectly into the moment and then he dropped towards the floor. He caught himself at the last moment in a plank and pushed forward, just as he had seen in the sequence he walked in on earlier. But this time it was different. At first he felt only a whisper in the Force outside their bond but it quickly grew. Serenity flowed out of his friend but along with it were sense impressions from his own body. Anticipation of the next move, tension and release as he strained towards the ceiling and then dropped, sliding from one position to another. A flurry of punches came with determination and satisfaction and series of high kicks and leaps: elation. Obi Wan couldn’t tear his eyes away, no wonder the club was so popular, everyone wanted to be able to do what athletes did, know what it was to feel your body performing at that level. This gave them that. And so much more.

There was an undercurrent of tension that felt distinctly inappropriate in this time and space crackling across his skin. Not to mention from his friend and former student. It wasn’t sexual but it was so very close. Anakin was aware of every inch of his skin, of how the cloth moved against it and the satisfaction of his muscles gathering heat as he dipped and rose. He was losing himself in the music and the dance. As the tempo sped up so did his moves and the emotions rolled out stronger than before. Maybe to a non force sensitive it wouldn’t have been so overwhelming. But Obi Wan could feel every detail, especially with the addition of their bond. He had never realised how good Anakin’s shields really were, until he had let them drop. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to distance himself but that only made it worse, focused his mind on what he was feeling. Dimly he felt his finger tips digging into his own thigh.

“Anakin. Anakin! Release your emotions,” he ground out. “Give them to the force.”

For a few moments he thought Anakin had ignored him. Or was too caught up to hear him? But the man jumped and rolled through a few closing moves and released everything with the final motion as the music died away. His passion entered the force like a depth charge and Obi Wan felt himself buffeted by a wave before it disappeared and nothing remained but calm and serenity around them and through the bond. 

That was, except in Obi Wan, he felt like a lightning rod that had just weathered a thunder storm. Anakin jerked his head up to grin at him and bounded over.

“Too much then?”

“Definitely.” Obi Wan was impressed his voice sounded as steady as it did.

“Felt good though. I never really knew what you and Master Yoda were talking about by releasing your emotions. I could do it but not in the way you seemed to be talking about.” Now that the storm had passed Obi Wan could think more clearly.

“That’s good news I suppose, perhaps this mission is a blessing in disguise.” He clapped his hand onto Anakin’s shoulder. “But several orders of magnitude lower at the club, please.”

“Yes, Master.”


	3. Chapter 3

When he had left the training studio that afternoon he had been too desperate to seek his own meditation to look too closely at the costume Anakin had handed over. If it could even be called that. A pair of ridiculously thin trousers and a note to collect a mask or helmet from Fern on his arrival.

Anakin had gone ahead to warm up with the other dancers and set up their cover among the staff. Obi Wan was meant to be the lazy partner, who would lounge around the club all night waiting to join for just one or two more high profile dances. 

Frankly, he was expecting a very easy mission. Chances were any force sensitive in the club would be drawn to watch Anakin perform. All he had to do was wait. 

He stopped off briefly to collect a mask that he could comfortably carry around all evening and snagged an extra jacket on his way out. He had mixed feelings about wandering around topless all evening and unlike Anakin he’d acquired enough scars over the years to attract questions from anyone paying close attention. 

He did an initial sweep of the club and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Well, nothing but sex, drugs and poor fashion choices. But it was all consensual and therefore none of his concern.

He headed to the centre of the club by way of one of the many bars, trying to convince himself he wasn’t prevaricating. As soon as he entered the main room he felt Anakin’s presence.

If Obi Wan had thought watching Anakin dance in the Temple had been bad, it was so much worse here. The atmosphere heightened the sense of him and his excitement. He was projecting into the crowd and they were responding. Pleasure in the feel of dancing hit and bounced back creating an echo chamber. He hadn’t even looked at Anakin yet but everything was magnified for him by their bond. He could feel Anakin’s serene joy and satisfaction, along with the appreciative lust from other force sensitives watching him, even the taste of Twi’lek liquor on one man’s tongue. Slightly dazed, he strengthened his shields and was abruptly glad he had as Anakin came into view on his platform. 

He was topless, just pulling out of a perfectly controlled kick, fists tight at his hips as he maintained his balance. Without touching the ground he sent the lifted leg far out behind him dropping into a lunge and then onto all fours before lifting a leg and dropping it over to the other side, turning his whole body so that he moved into a bridge, facing up again. Even without feeling the rest of the crowd’s response Obi Wan felt his mouth go dry. When he had pulled out the flimsy trousers he had smiled to think that at least Anakin would be subjected to the outfit as well. He hadn’t actually imagined the other man wearing them. Bare, bronze skin already gleamed with sweat and hard won muscles stood out starkly in the dim lighting. He had chosen a helmet that hid most of his face. It made it much easier to see him simply as a beautiful man, who was clearly inviting people to look their fill. 

Obi Wan took a shaky breath and went back to scanning the crowd. He sectioned off the lust scorching through him, accepted it and released it into the force. It wasn’t as satisfying as usual. The force felt saturated here, like he was in a desert trying to release warmth. Even if he tried it made no difference, he was still surrounded by it, lapping at the edges of his presence and soaking into his skin.

He concentrated on scanning the room and by the time Anakin’s set finished he had a few contenders for their dealer. But every time he opened his senses to see if they were misusing the force he was overwhelmed. It would have to wait until the possibly chosen one wasn’t blanketing the nightclub in his...how could he even describe it. It was the mental equivalent of having a sweaty, laughing Anakin draped over one’s self on the mats after an unsuccessful round of sparring. Not remotely unpleasant but rather difficult to focus on anything else.

Quarter of an hour later, Anakin had stopped, Obi Wan had eliminated one suspect and lost track of one other. So much for an easy mission.

Anakin exited the stage by a back door and ran his hands through sweaty hair, pushing it back from his face. He felt energised but dancing was surprisingly tiring. He could tell he would be stiff tomorrow. As he brushed past in the narrow backstage hallway a couple of the other dancers he had met that afternoon clapped him on the back and congratulated him. He thanked them and stepped out onto the main floor in search of ObiWan. He could feel the man at the other end of their bond but he was shielding tightly. Anakin had been shamefully grateful for an excuse to keep the bond longer. It had been some time since he was knighted but severing it still seemed unthinkable. 

In this case, not only was it useful for the dances but he wasn’t sure he would have recognised his master without it. Their robes usually gave them an easily recognisable shape and without them Obi Wan looked more slender but also more dangerous. The black clothes were a stark change and the loose trousers and fitted jacket he had somehow managed to add gave away more than they concealed. 

“Cop out! You’ve added to the costume.” Anakin joined him out the balcony and saw his Master roll his eyes. 

“Wandering around half naked didn’t seem very subtle.” Suddenly Anakin was more conscious of his own lack of clothing. But there shouldn’t have been any need. The patrons of this place dressed purely for fashion. Some were head to toe in couture robes, others completely naked. Indeed, the naked had a distinct advantage, the club was warm and humid even when standing still, let alone dancing. 

Anakin raised his eyebrows but Obi Wan didn’t meet his eye. 

“If you say so. Any luck spotting our dealer.” Obi Wan hummed.

“I’ve seen some possibilities. But it’s hard to sense much through all of this,” he waved a hand at the room.

“I know what you mean. Everything feels so alive here.” The other man made a noise and Anakin expanded his point. “Even if these people come here all the time, they still feel like anything could happen. They might dance with a stranger, take a drug, dance on a table. They’re full of potential.” He turned to see ObiWan looking at him but couldn’t read his expression.

“A little too chaotic for me. I’m going to see if I can’t track down my missing candidate.”

As he walked away Anakin turned to lean on the balcony, staring down at the moving sea of the crowd below.

“You dance beautifully.” Anakin turned to find a tiny Twi’lek woman speaking to him. Despite her size she had a very direct gaze and it was fixed on him in a manner that was almost predatory. “You gave yourself over to the music entirely, it was mesmerising.” Anakin could feel himself starting to blush.

“Thanks? It felt good, like it went well, I mean. It doesn’t really feel like anything else,” he paused. “I don’t know how to describe it,” he finished lamely, tripping over his words. She chuckled lowly and moved closer to him.

“Oh I can think of some comparisons...other ways you could feel like that. I could show them to you if you like?” He couldn’t deny that he was tempted with her leaning so close to him and the adrenaline of the dance still in his system. He could smell her skin and feel the warmth of her without his normal layers. “There’s somewhere we could go just up those stairs.” She angled her mouth as close as she could get to his with the height difference, rising onto her toes. 

The concept was intoxicating and he wanted it. But the reality, not so much, not with someone he just met, that he didn’t know or trust.

He pushed her gently away and she drew back further on her own.

“Shame.” She seemed only mildly disappointed. “Probably for the best, though, you might be a bit strong for everything I wanted to do to you. Around all these others anyway.” Well that was slightly worrying, what had she been planning?

“What do you mean?” She looked at him and cocked her head to one side, frowning slightly and he felt like he was missing something important. “What?”

“You’re Force sensitive.”At his blank look she continued, “no one’s talked to you about this? How you projecting your emotions might affect the people around you?” 

“She said when I danced to make sure it was an invitation not a demand.”

“Yes, but that’s with you projecting serenity, joy and” she smirked, “a little bit of poorly concealed desire. Like the wonderful tease that you were,” her face sobered. “But what if you were feeling anger. A dancer could start a brawl, or with you a riot.” He frowned, this was starting to feel like the same old lecture he kept having from the Council. She saw his reaction and continued:

“Force aside, it’s easy for someone of my size to be intimidated by someone like you. Act sweet to keep you sweet, make sure you don’t turn nasty.”

“I would never...,” he started hotly.

“And the other person knows that how?” She snapped the question out, interrupting him and he snapped his mouth close, shocked. He would be able to tell if someone felt like that around him. Wouldn’t he? “Add in that you’re force sensitive and maybe they really wouldn’t have a choice. If you wanted me you could blanket me in a fog of desire so thick I’d think I wanted you too.”

“But that would be assault!” Suddenly he was so very grateful for his training, he had never considered the pitfalls of being an untrained force sensitive. What if he’d never been found on Tattooine? From the way his teachers spoke it was always Jedi or Sith. No word about the nuances for those not powerful enough for that. Did they teach this to those sent to the Agricorps? While his mind reeled the Twi’lek woman was continuing.

“And you might not even know you’d done it. Why do you think those Jedi spend all that time meditating. Imagine how dangerous they would be if they acted like us?” She waved a hand at the club. Well they would be a Sith, he thought. But most people weren’t aware of that. He’d only ever considered Sith in terms of politics and battles. Not the kind of harm they could do in the course of their normal day to day lives. Somehow that hit so much closer to home. He had grown up among in a community where slavery gave some beings an unnatural amount of power over others. But he’d never realised his abilities gave him the same. The Jedi cast themselves in the light of servants to the people, he hadn’t really thought any deeper about why. 

When he looked up his companion was staring at him.

“No one ever talked you about this? Not even your partner?” Surprise and confusion broke through his twisting thoughts.

“My partner?”

“The very jealous looking man watching us.” She titled her head and he followed he gaze to see ObiWan leaning against a wall some twenty feet away.

“Oh him, yes,” he paused. “He did. I’m just not sure he used the right words. Or I didn’t listen.” At least he didn’t have to worry about this with Obi Wan and his friends at the Temple. Even if Anakin’s shields failed, they all had their own.

“Well pay attention!” She smiled at him but her eyes were serious. “Don’t learn by ripping someone’s life apart. Now,” she grasped his chin between her thumb and finger, “I was looking for fun and you went and drew me into your issues, beautiful boy. It’s been....something, but I have a new lover to find.”

With that she turned and walked away. He stared after her, lost in his thoughts until a couple of minutes later Obi Wan appeared at his side.

“A candidate for the dealer?”

“What? Oh! Definitely not.” Obi Wan gave him a peculiar look and then rested a hand on his arm, flinching infinitesimally, as if he almost drew it straight back. Probably thrown by the feel of skin on skin for once. Anakin certainly was, despite his abstraction.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes, no.” He gave a wry smile, “actually feeling a sudden urge to meditate.” Obi Wan’s eyes widened comically.

“That sounds serious.”

“It will have to be later. I’m due back on stage soon. Good luck hunting.”

Over the next hours ObiWan found two more potential dealers and eliminated both of them, it was getting frustrating. Then it was time for him to join Anakin onstage. He watched his friend dancing from the level above, he was sticking to the slower katas that would allow him a chance to react when ObiWan attacked. This should have felt like very low stakes but instead it felt like standing on a cliff persuading himself to jump into the ocean. With a deep breath he vaulted over the railing, dropped down and immediately lunged for Anakin. 

His strike was deflected smoothly with a spinning kick, a move that would have seen Anakin with one less leg had Obi Wan been holding his lightsaber. The crowd noticed something was going on and there were several gasps as people registered the new entertainment. They moved closer to watch as Anakin was driven back across the stage, before diving into a roll and coming up holding his own blade. 

There were a few noises of realisation as some of the slower or more inebriated customers realised this was part of the show and one of the dancers wasn’t actually being attacked by a madman in a mask. 

Now they could clash properly and their blades met with a screech that was almost entirely drowned out by the thudding bass. After his reticence and confusion following the brief chat with that Twi’lek woman, it was a relief to feel Anakin strong and sure through their wide open bond. Especially since he couldn’t see more than a few slivers of the man’s face behind the dark metal mask. After a few moments he had to remind himself they weren’t meant to be just sparring but providing entertainment and backed off.

They circled each other and Obi Wan could feel Anakin’s smile behind his helmet. He tightened his hand on his weapon, clearly resisting an impulse to show off and toss the sword from hand to hand. Obi Wan felt a thrill of amusement at the forced role reversal and casually tossed his blade and forth instead. The crowd couldn’t feel Anakin’s shock or hear the choked off laugh, but he could. 

He sent a wordless nudge through the bond and this time when they closed they kept it achingly slow. It was a satisfying feeling to focus on precise foot work and perfecting the posture and hand motions that usually fell by the wayside when practice moved from solo to sparring.

_Come on, Master_. Anakin’s voice taunted through their bond.  _I can see posture diagrams flowing through your mind._

He could not. But point taken. He sped up slightly and tried to push Anakin back. But the younger man was just taking the opportunity to show off. He passed up an easy block of a swipe towards his middle in favour of a full back bend. Obi Wan’s blade skimmed a half inch above taut abs as he planted one hand on the floor and immediately pushed back up again.

_Humans cannot do that, Anakin. Not that slow._

_This one can._

Satisfaction rolled off him in a wave and by the shiver from some in the crowd, they felt it too. He sent the mental equivalent of an eye roll back and speeded up again in retaliation, letting his blade glance across Anakin’s chest. He felt a shudder run through their bond and tension poured into the air around them. Anakin threw himself back into the fight and they pushed each other back and forth over the stage until sweat was dripping off of them both. They made sure to land a few hits, and he could feel one or two had raised red lines on his fair skin.

Slowing slightly, ObiWan telegraphed a dramatic overhead hit straight at Anakin’s face, putting his body weight behind the blow. The younger man caught it inches away, his blade at ninety degrees and held between both hands. Part of ObiWan registered how little trouble Anakin had had adapting to a weapon that wouldn’t burn his hands off and felt a thrill of pride, his protege never ceased to impress. 

Distracted, tiring and trying to adapt an Ataru move without a force assisted jump he fumbled a strike and dragged the tip of the blade up Anakin’s inner thigh. Shock clenched their bond but behind it there was an undeniably wave of lust and Anakin’s eyes snapped up to try and meet his but he had already swiping away for another attack, which was barely blocked in time. 

_Slow _ _down_.

It was that or he was going to land a hit too hard. But Anakin ignored him and sent a flurry of strikes against him, ending by locking their swords straining towards each other. Their knees were pressed together, outside to outside and he was conscious of Anakin’s breath on his face and over his bare upper arms. The only breeze in the now stifling air of the club.

Through their bond he could feel all of Anakin’s sense impressions layered on top of his own; the warmth of Anakin bleeding through the thin layers of fabric but also the way pressing against Obi Wan felt  to Anakin. He got a glimpse of his own face, the half mask leaving only his mouth exposed. Lust and longing bubbled through the bond and he felt it rise inside himself as well. 

He broke away, circling as he tried to release everything he was feeling into the Force but it didn’t work. He was in too deep and there was too much energy swirling around him for his feelings to dissipate. Instead he felt Anakin’s focus on him, he was projecting into the Force again, something Obi Wan wasn’t sure he was aware of. As he circled he saw the hungry faces of the crowd as they swayed towards the stage. He was starting to pick up other images from Anakin; nothing concrete, just flashes of sweaty skin and auburn hair, hands pressing into skin and gasping mouths. His own body was reacting and he wanted to reach out and see more. Were those Anakin’s hands and his own hip bones?

He took several deep breaths, pressing his emotions down, it was time to finish this before Anakin showed him something he would later regret. He attacked again, pressing in hard and closer to his full speed than he had risked so far.

Anakin fell back quickly, clearly surprised and emotions cooling slightly as he was forced to focus on defence. Obi Wan pressed his advantage and flicked his sword against the inside of Anakin’s blade arm and then the metal helmet, Anakin flinched at the sound and was distracted enough not to notice the combination that allowed Obi Wan to flick his blade out of his hand.

Before he could lose control of the situation again, he stepped into Anakin’s space pushing him further off balance by pressing his back into the taller man’s chest and then tossing him neatly over his hip. For the sake of the dance he kept it the same as their practice, holding onto Anakin’s arm bent over his thigh and laying the tip of his sword against his jugular. When Anakin hit the ground he felt the same crashing wave through the force as he had before when Anakin released his emotions at the Temple. His mind reeled and he nearly sank to his knees.

Anakin’s body was suddenly relaxed in Obi Wan’s hands and he showed no desire to break free. Curiously, he brushed his mind against Anakin’s. Echoes of the desire was still there but the rest was serenity, pure, without anger or resentment. Anakin welcomed his presence in his mind but didn’t grasp at him, instead it felt like being suspended above a sea, calm as far as he could see in every direction.

_Dear one. We’re done,_ he murmured.

Anakin smiled up at him through the slits in the helmet and rose fluidly. They bowed to each other, then to the audience and walked off stage.

Fern was waiting for them just behind the door, she took one look and rolled her eyes.

“Take him somewhere else,” she said to Obi Wan. “Before we get a second hand high and everyone is useless for the night.” He inclined his head to her and guided Anakin towards a balcony he remembered from the plans.

When they pushed through the door, there was only one other couple out there. He flicked a hand in their direction.

“You want to go back inside.” One of them shivered turned to the other and slid an arm around their waist.

“It’s cold, let’s go back in.”

Satisfied, Obi Wan turned to Anakin again and pushed him towards the inner wall, he had been gazing dreamily out at the city scape and he looked like he might fall over given half a chance.

“Anakin, talk to me, what happened out there.”

“I’m not sure I made much of a secret of it.” His voice was slow and light but muffled by the helmet. Well it was true there was no denying the lust that had been burning between them but he would have expected Anakin to deny it or at least try and distract attention.

“You seem..., he paused, unsure how to phrase it, “off.” Anakin laughed leaning back against the wall and tipping his head back.

“I feel drunk.” Echoes of the power he had released into the force still rippled around him. Frustrated by not being able to see his expression, Obi Wan yanked off his own mask and then gently lifted off Anakin’s helmet.

“Are you okay?” He placed a hand on the hot skin of Anakin’s face and tipped it down towards him. Behind the stupidly long eyelashes, his pupils were blown wide. He made pleased noise and leant into the touch, brushing his face along the calluses on Obi Wan’s palm. He should have pulled the hand away, Anakin still didn’t seem in control of himself but instead he rubbed a thumb gently along a cheekbone.

“I’m good,” Anakin said. He focused a little, and his voice took on a less deep and satisfied tone. “I’m sorry, that got out of control.” Obi Wan took a breath, Anakin had released all his emotions but he hadn’t and even the vague reminder made him shiver. 

“Yes.” His voice was rough and Anakin clearly registered Obi Wan’s reaction and his eyes widened.

“Did I do that?  _Make_ you feel like that?” He emphasised the first word and ObiWan could feel his awareness returning and along with it fear and a hint of horror.

“No! No.” Immediate relief swept through their bond. But Obi Wan cringed at what he had just admitted and pulled away. Anakin’s hand shot out and grasped his shoulder gently, preventing him from withdrawing completely. 

_You wanted me too._ Obi Wan was silent. After a second Anakin ran his hand up to his face, ghosting over his beard. He ran a delicate finger along the curve of brow and down to the cheekbone. Over what the mask had been covering before.

“Can I kiss you?” Anakin’s voice was vulnerable and the request was sweet, so sweet given everything that had happened that night. It was the opposite of what he had felt from the younger man during the dance. That had been possessive, filled with the desire to win and stake a claim. All those feelings had been released, and this was what was left.

“Yes.”

Anakin bent his head and brushed his lips against Obi Wan’s. For a few moments they managed to keep it gentle but the desire Obi Wan had been pushing down surged up and when it touched Anakin through their bond it was like a flame to jet fuel. The force roared and everything on the balcony started to rise into the air.

“Shields,” he bit out and threw up a wall around his mind, he felt Anakin do the same even as he pressed his mouth to his neck. Together their shields merged to form a bubble around them both, shutting out the rest of the world. The chairs clattered to the ground and a couple of glasses smashed and were ignored.

Their mouths found each other again and he felt Anakin’s hand run tentatively up his back drawing him closer. He stumbled forward pressing Anakin back against the wall, chests together and snaked a hand up into his curls, gripping tightly.

Anakin moaned into his mouth and the sound went straight to his cock. 

He broke away, “you have no idea, do you? The way you look and what you sound like.”

“I know you like it,” Anakin replied breathlessly. “You liked watching me dance. I could even feel it in the Temple, I just didn’t realise...”

“Yes, Force help me I do.” He dragged his fingertips down Anakin’s abs, trying to stop himself at the waistband. It was his turn to feel desperate and possessive. “You walked off that stage looking like you’d been fucked six ways to Sunday.”

“You’re blaming me?” He pushed Obi Wan away and reversed their positions pressing him back into the wall. He left one hand on the shorter man’s shoulder and then flicked the other up his chest catching on a nipple. Then he reached down and dragged his fingertip up the inside of Obi Wan’s thigh, making him gasp. “When you were doing that. In front of everyone.” His mind was blank for a second and then he realised what Anakin was referring to, those were the places his blade had run over when they danced.

It was only confirmed when Anakin flashed him the memory of it through their bond. Obi Wan’s blade catching on his nipple and the spike of pleasure he had felt. He gasped and reached our to drag his fingers over one of Anakin’s nipples again, just to hear him moan. He slid his hands up to tangle in the Anakin’s hair and tightened both fists.

“Stop complaining.”

“Never,” his voice broke on the word as Obi Wan tightened and release his grip, pulling his mouth down again. Anakin crowded in slotting their bodies together and he felt their cocks line up and slide against each other for the first time. The sound they made was embarrassing in its desperation. He let it continue for a second and then pushed Anakin gently away.

“There is no way we can have sex on this balcony.” 

“Really? I have a few suggestions if you’d like to hear them,” Anakin panted. 

“No!” He took a breath and said, “we haven’t completed our mission.” Anakin sighed and the energy surrounding him calmed slightly.

“Fine. I think I can find him, though.” Obi Wan looked at him questioningly. “My connection to the force feels, er, elevated tonight, I could sense some dark spots in the club when I was dancing. Until you joined looking like that and I got distracted.” 

“Well it’s worth a try.” He turned to head for the door but Anakin gestured him back, sinking in half lotus.

“It’ll be easier from here. Will you help me? I’ll need your...precision, I think.” 

“Of course.” He sank down and took Anakin’s offered hands, placing his own palm to palm.

They rolled their minds out through the club, Anakin’s power giving far more reach than ObiWan could have managed alone. Each force sensitive dancer stood out clearly, but the effect they caused varied, some purer or stronger than others. 

ObiWan had always loved meditating in the Jedi Temple because it was like being surrounded by light. It helped him maintain the same within himself. Here there was just so much grey.

_There_. 

Anakin drew his attention to a place where there was a slicker, murkier stain in the fabric. Something properly dark. 

_That’s our dealer._

Obi Wan smiled, eyes still closed.

_ Let’s go get him. _


End file.
